Date: Mon, 2 Jun 2008 13:25:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: Stephen Case
Subject: damiens world part 2
Damien's World
~a novella~
Chapter 2
Class began; chaos. Teachers were rushing up and down the
eighth grade hallway, helping other students who couldn't pry open their
battered lockers. JeffersonHigh School was under funded, understaffed,
overcrowded, and in bad need of repair. Altogether, it was just a simply
depressing place to be educated.
I looked for my name on the homeroom registry:
...Alex...Allison...Ashford! That's me, Damien Ashford. I went to my
homeroom: A-11. Once upon getting there, I was greeted by Ms. Crawford, an
older woman, who looked fatigued. It would later turnout she would be my
math teacher.
"You must be Mr. Ashford, the new student! Oh, you must forgive me; we
don't get many new students around here. I'm Ms. Crawford, your homeroom
teacher."
She seemed nice enough.
"Nice to meet you Ms. Crawford" I said in a certain tone, not trying to
sound like a suck up and not trying to sound sarcastic at the same time.
I sat in my assigned seat. I was one of two other people in the classroom,
now. Most of the other kids were talking in the hallways about their
summers, and their minor dramas on Myspace and whatnot.
The two other kids in the classroom with me were, forgive
me, weird looking. One had an enormous overbite, and the other some kind
of spinal brace which extended well over his neck and around to his
forehead. I tried making conversation with one of them but they simply
stared me down. I just assumed they liked to keep to themselves, I could
relate.
The late bell rang, and students rushed into the
classrooms, some responding to the teacher's greetings of "good morning" or
"how was your summer" half-heartedly, and some even ignoring them
altogether.
I looked on the idling name tag on the desk next to me to
see who would be sitting next to me. Stephen Anderson, a generic American
name. I let it roll off my tongue in a whisper. Stephen Anderson. As the
students filed into the classrooms, I didn't bother to look at them. I was
just lost in my train of thought about that boy I had seen on my way to
school.
Only when I felt a `thud' of the desk next to me did I look
over to see what Stephen looked like.
I froze. My throat was no longer capable of emitting
speech, with the exception of a few inaudible grunts. It was the boy I had
seen walking to school, the beautiful one. Stephen caught me looking at
him out of the corner of his eye, and asked me if I was new, or something
like that; I was too mesmerized to remember what he asked me. But whatever
it was, I just said yes. He giggled and I felt my heart drop. Stephen was
about my height with brown hair, and deep hazel eyes, and had the body of
an athlete, which he was. A very good looking fourteen year old.
Later, I found out that he was the most popular boy in
school. Every week a new girlfriend, and another twenty people willing to
kiss his ass. He had it all, as far as a middle school life could go.
As I listened to the intimidating military-like voice of
the principal through the archaic intercom system of the school, I would
occasionally well up strength to make conversation with Stephen, but I fell
short of even making noise. I was so damn nervous. That's one problem
with me, I'm very self-conscience.
After getting lost in my own thoughts for a couple of
minutes, homeroom was dismissed for the first class of the day.
The rest of the day was uneventful, a virtual blur with the fast paced
world revolving around me. I finally reached my last class: gym. We went
into the locker rooms which was routine to start gym class. I looked
around the room to see who was in my class. Virtually all the guys from my
homeroom and a few faces I didn't recognize were in my gym class. Then
Stephen walked into the room and sat next to me. I nearly wet myself. Of
all the people in the entire locker room to sit next to, many of whom were
his good friends, he chose to sit with me. It gave me this warm, fuzzy
feeling inside.
"What's your name?" He asked, smiling, showing a gleaming
row of white teeth.
"Damien" I muttered.
"Damien, huh, that's a pretty name."
When he told me my name was pretty, I gained more altitude
than a 747. And right before gym too. I wondered to myself: Is he on the
team? I let that whole situation sink in. I figured I would wait and see
what he is like then I will try and see if he is gay. I would never hit on
a straight guy, no matter how cute they were. That could be a disaster.
The gym teacher entered the room. Everybody fell silent.
Apparently, this gym teacher had a reputation for being somewhat of a
hardcore instructor, that didn't tolerate any screwing around. He examined
us, and then muttered something (probably derogatory) under his breath.
He yelled abruptly "Shower time. Line up!"
The other students did so; out of fear. I sat, hard,
ruminating about the situation currently presented to me.
*I will continue this series
if I receive positive feedback*
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